Alien Colony

by Anna Lewis

  They teased and tantalized each other for what felt like forever until Reilly knew she couldn't stand waiting a moment longer. Maksim suddenly seized the waist of the too-large jeans and simply yanked them down past Reilly's knees. She giggled as she kicked her pants free, unzipping Mack's own jeans and freeing his cock. She shuddered with anticipation, opening her legs wide so he could take her. For a moment he didn't move, he just held himself above her, devouring the sight of her pale, freckled body. But Reilly didn't want to wait another second. She took hold of him and guided him in so that the head of his penis pushed a little into her. She sucked in a breath. Maksim moved, just a little, somehow still holding back and teasing her. He rubbed the tip of his cock against her clit, and Reilly cried out, “Come on! Just do it! Oh, please Mack, just fuck me!”

  He began to thrust into her, slowly at first, pushing all the way into her, so that she felt every inch of him. She groaned and wrapped her legs around his waist, using her thighs to make him go faster. She didn’t know how he could stand to be so controlled, so methodical, so damned frustrating; he felt amazing, and she just wanted more. She dug her fingernails into the muscles of his back and dragged them painfully down toward his waist. He growled and thrust harder, faster, each movement an explosion of warm ecstasy that washed over Reilly like the waves of the ocean. “Yeah,” she moaned. “Like that! Oh, please don't stop!”

  Maksim seized Reilly's swollen breasts in both of his hands and sat back on his heels, maneuvering her long, perfect legs so that her ankles crossed behind his head. And then he was thrusting even deeper than before, and Reilly felt her eyes widen, even as the pleasure became more and more overwhelming. She was crying out with each stroke, her voice rising higher and higher as she climbed. She could feel it gathering within her, each movement another push closer to that bright, wonderful edge. Nothing else mattered at that moment. Reilly felt no pain, no stress, no worry, she just felt Maksim driving hard into her as he completely lost his control. And then he let out a loud cry of his own as he came, shooting hot seed deep into her. Reilly's body reacted to his, and her orgasm came crashing in, clenching her tight around him and making her arch her back up off the sofa. Ecstasy so incandescent it was almost agony exploded up through her body, and she screamed, digging her nails hard into his abdomen as the crashing waves swept her mind away in a hurricane of bliss.

  When Reilly came back to herself, Maksim was still inside her, breathing hard and propping himself up over her with his arms. She could feel the flush suffusing her pale face as she looked up into his dark gaze, her own eyes bright with satisfaction. Mack drew his cock out of her, then shifted his weight to lie down next to her on the couch. A little echo of the orgasm twitched through Reilly’s body, and she sighed happily.

  “Was that what you needed?” Maksim murmured in her ear.

  Reilly didn't answer; she just wriggled her back against his chest until she was comfortable and closed her eyes. She wasn't tired, but she liked the warmth of him, the obdurate strength of him, and at that moment, she felt like her worries were far away. After a few minutes, Maksim's breathing became slow and regular, and she knew he was asleep. She smiled. Yes, she thought to herself. Yes, this was what I needed.

  Noon Saturday: Breach Day plus one

  Maksim and Reilly were eating lunch when Abdul came back in the mini-gunship. He brought the aircraft to a gentle landing in a clearing not far from the hidden trailer, and it didn’t take him long to meet Mack and Reilly inside. Reilly noticed with a pang in her heart that the slender pilot was alone. She stood up from the couch as he entered the little trailer and smiled. “I don’t think I got the chance to thank you for flying us out of there.” She held out her hand. “Reilly McAllister.”

  Abdul took her hand and shook it, his expression neutral. “It was nothing,” he said in a light, melodic accent. “I owed Sokolov a favor.”

  “Did you find them?” Maksim asked quietly, from the sofa.

  Abdul shook his head. “No. There was no trace. Most of my neighbors are gone as well. It is possible they all got out together, though I do not know where they or my family would have gone.” He forced a slight smile onto his angular face. “There is still hope.”

  Maksim nodded gravely. “I'll help you find them, one way or another. You have my word. But what of the government. Is the military doing anything? We haven't heard much on the radio other than various canned emergency messages.”

  Abdul shrugged. “It is chaos out there, my friend. Utter chaos. It is hard to tell if the military is able to do anything at all. The sky is full of smoke. I don’t think I passed a single city that was not burning.” He bowed his head for a moment, and Reilly could see the exhaustion lines etched into his face. Then he took a deep breath and continued. “Some of my friends with M&J Engineering have been in touch, however, and they say that the eggheads at their lab in Detroit have some ideas about what this disaster might be.”

  Reilly jumped at the name of the company. M&J Engineering was the rival high-tech research and development firm to her employer, NextGen Solutions. She thought about a thirty-foot tall red-scaled demon crashing through the side of the NextGen corporate tower. Okay, she amended. My former employer. At this point, company loyalty didn’t mean a damn thing. “They’re working on a solution to this?”

  Abdul held up his hands. “I have no idea. It was only a rumor.”

  Reilly turned to meet Mack’s eyes. “Then we need to go there. I have the hard-drive with my team’s data—” she paused, frowning. “Assuming it was still in my pocket when you took my clothes to wash.”

  Maksim nodded, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “It's in the laundry closet on a shelf. Safe and sound.”

  Reilly breathed out a sigh of relief. At least something had gone remotely right. She turned back to Abdul. “Can you take us to the MJE site?”

  Abdul’s expression hardened. “While I was happy to do a favor for Maksim, I do not know you. I only came back here at all because I said that I would. I am going to take my bird and go find my family. You can find some other way to clean up your—”

  “Abdul,” Maksim interjected, his tone mild. “We will come with you to find your family. Once they are safe, we would take it as a kindness if you would drop us off in Detroit. Family comes first. But getting us to Detroit is a good idea, and it could help resolve all of this.” Reilly sat back down on the couch, trying not to let her anger and shame show in her face. She could tell by the heat in her cheeks that she was failing.

  Abdul flicked a glance from Maksim to Reilly, shrewd brown eyes catching on some detail that he hadn’t noticed when he’d come inside. The corner of his mouth twitched. His expression softened by a degree. He sighed, and all the exhaustion of the last day made him sag forward a little. “Thank you. Both of you. I am sorry for my temper. It was a long flight.”

  Maksim nodded. “Go get some rest. We can plan things out in the morning.” Abdul nodded and shuffled off for one of the bedrooms on the far side of the trailer home.

  Reilly sighed. “Even if a solution is found right away, nothing is going to be the same again, is it?”

  Maksim shook his head. “No. It won’t be the same.” But then his mouth crooked up in a little grin and he said, “But it’s never the same no matter what we do. You can’t beat yourself up over what was. You can’t get lost worrying about ‘what if’.” He wrapped a strong arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “You can only worry about what you have now, and what you’re going to do next.” Seeing the bleak look on Reilly’s face, Maksim reached up with one hand and gently turned her face so that she met his eyes. “You have the data. The MJE guys have their ideas.” He gestured to his outstretched right arm, to the hidden bundles of synthetic metal muscle within. “You have a damaged world, but it isn’t broken completely. And I’m living proof that sometimes damaged things come back stronger.” He smiled, and Reilly couldn’t help but smile with him. His grin was contagious. “So, Reilly, what are you going t
o do next?”

  Reilly thought about it. She thought about her team, lost when the portal collapsed. She thought about Washington, D.C., torn and tattered by the disaster. She thought about the red-scaled titan and his taunts. And instead of the fear that she had expected to come with those thoughts, she found that she felt only a sense of grim determination. “Maksim,” she said, her voice fierce, her verdant eyes alight, “I’m going to slam shut that fucking Door.”

  The mercenary only smiled. “Damn right you are.”

  THE END

  = Bonus Book 2 of 12 =

  Mated To Twin Dragon Princes

  Nessa walked down the long, blue, tiled hallway, her heels clicking as she went. She glanced out of the arched window beside her. It was a beautiful day outside—the perfectly manicured landscaping of the university’s lawns was breathtaking—obviously kept up using magic. There were perfectly sculpted box trees tucked in tiny rounded mounds beneath the windows of the buildings, and several large, ancient oak trees that shaded the lawns. The grass was verdant, neatly trimmed. Rose bushes were planted in the perfect places to add that little splash of lush crimson between the enormous stone buildings. It always made her feel like she was in a fairytale castle—the university seemed to be the stuff of myth, brought to life.

  For a moment, she stood, watching students walking quickly, trying to make it in time to their classes. They were dressed casually in jeans and t-shirts, sneakers and flip flops. Oddly enough, they were the ones who seemed out of place. The people for whom this whole place was kept broke its atmosphere.

  She ran a hand over her hair and cursed herself for doing so. She’d spent quite a while curling it earlier, even if it had been done using magic. She wasn’t usually one to get ruffled. She felt confident, but nervous—today was her first lecture on the basics of magic. She was one of the university’s top students, and soon, she would qualify for a professorship. It was long waited-for and well-deserved. All of her hard work, all of her years of hitting the books and practicing her skill—at last, she would have the so coveted position.

  She tugged anxiously on the sleek, fitted pencil skirt of her suit. She wore a matching crimson blazer with a crisp, white oxford shirt. She wore a pair of black stiletto heels. Her hair was styled in blonde beachy waves that fell around her shoulders. She wore a light amount of makeup: liquid black eyeliner, mascara, a dusting of foundation and crimson lipstick. She had spent a long time getting dressed this morning. She had wanted to look professional, yet young and exciting. After all, she was only twenty-seven, and decades younger than her soon-to-be colleagues. Typically, it took ages for someone to qualify for a professorship. It took decades and decades of hard work and preparation. Nessa was a genius—it had all come early.

  At the tender age of four, she had performed her first successful transfiguration. By the age of ten, she was pulling off complex spell work, things that her mother claimed had taken years to perfect. Her parents had always been proud of her—showing her off to their friends and coworkers. She had been the perfect party entertainment—she would dazzle those gathered with her most recent spell, whether it be glass butterflies, conjured out of the air, or real cotton-candy clouds. She had never failed to impress. She had been both skilled and creative. As soon as she had reached the college, she had continued to wow.

  She paused outside of the door to the lecture hall. She could hear the students inside. They were all freshmen, just arrived at the university in order to begin their magical education. Nessa had arrived early—she had only been fifteen. It had been right after her parents had been killed in an accident. She remembered, for a moment, that first day there. She had sat, horribly nervous and terribly miserable, in her seat in the lecture hall. She had been dressed like any fifteen-year-old, in a t-shirt and sweatpants, trying to blend in with the older college-aged crowd. She looked and felt like a kid. She exhaled. She was a far cry from her fifteen-year-old self. She smiled, letting her confidence fill her.

  She opened the door to the lecture hall, and as she entered, the room went silent. Her students all looked at her with interest. She looked at each one of them, smiling at them warmly.

  “Good morning, I am Nessa Kant,” she said, walking up to the lectern at the front of the large, oak-paneled room. It was filled with desks from wall to wall, and it had a soft maroon carpet. Large, arched windows were set in the walls behind the students.

  She looked around at each of her students in turn. Somewhere around thirty young faces gazed back at her eagerly. Her eyes fell on the man sitting in the front row, to the very left. Nessa frowned. He was clearly a decade older than the others. He grinned at her. She smiled back and nodded. Perhaps he’s an older student? She thought. She had been prepared to teach people younger than she was. She hadn’t expected older learners. He might even be older than I am. She hoped that he wouldn’t give her any trouble. Some people in the faculty were offended by her younger age. They teased her about being the same age as her students. She’d laughed it off, saying that she was at least a decade older than most of the freshmen. This, clearly, changed things. She’d never hear the end of it if any of them found out.

  “Today, I thought we’d begin by discussing the foundations of magic,” she began, figuring that by jumping right in, she’d get right onto familiar territory. Cut the nerves in half with a sword blade. “Magic is rooted in the four elements. Does anyone know the four elements?” she glanced around. The older student raised his hand immediately.

  “Yes?” Nessa asked, glancing over at him. He smiled at her. Damn. He was gorgeous. He had the chiseled good looks that Nessa was particularly attracted to. She tried to ignore it. He was her student for goodness’ sakes! His bright blue eyes shone. Ugh.

  “Fire, water, air, earth,” he said. “Although I believe you are missing one.”

  “Oh?” Nessa’ smile fell.

  “The spirit,” he pointed out.

  “Spirit has long been debated,” Nessa replied. “It cannot be harnessed unless by a Necromancer. It is forbidden to manipulate spirit magic without proper training.”

  “So then, it is, arguably, the fifth element,” he said.

  “Arguably,” she admitted. “I cannot teach it in a beginning class, however.”

  “Have you ever worked with it?” He asked, arching an eyebrow. Oh, how irksome! She couldn’t admit to it without forfeiting her position!

  “It is forbidden,” she replied, shooting him a frosty look. He sat back in his seat, biting his pencil. She looked out among her other students, who were watching with interest.

  “Why is it forbidden?” A girl asked, raising her hand as she spoke.

  “There are laws which govern magic, as you well know,” Nessa replied, choosing not to address her impertinence. “Spirit magic has been forbidden since the rise of the Death’s Head Necromancer in 1882. He dabbled in magic which he could not contain. It overcame him slowly, eventually possessing him. It claimed many lives until he was finally bound to the spirit realm by Arcturus Spot in 1887. By royal decree, spirit magic was declared illegal that same year.

  “Spirit magic is very dangerous. It is not to be trifled with.” As she said it, she felt the urge to try it herself. Was she not a genius? Was she not one of the strongest practitioners that the university had seen in ages? She didn’t think that she was a Necromancer, but then, Spot hadn’t been, either, and he had manipulated spirit magic in order to bind the Necromancer. She smiled at all of her students as she focused on the elemental magics which could be controlled.

  “So, this class will focus on the four which are not criminal. I will begin with earth, as that is the one which is the easiest to manipulate.” She held up her hand over the terracotta pot of soil that she had brought into the classroom earlier that day. At a word, the soil began to lift from the pot. She could feel the surge of her power flowing over her skin, radiating from the center of her palm. There was a murmur from the class as it took the shape of a very realistic looking squirrel.
Nessa smiled. It was one of her best tricks.

  At the end of the class, all of her students stood, filing out of the classroom. Nessa watched as they left. As the final students exited, someone cleared their throat next to her. She turned in surprise to face the older student. She looked at him questioningly. He smiled his heart-stoppingly beautiful grin.

  “Yes?” she asked, feeling her throat go dry.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “Um, I’m not actually one of your students.” Now Nessa frowned.

  “Then you shouldn’t be here,” she snapped. She crossed her arms over her chest. She opened her mouth to threaten him with calling campus security. He held up his hand, as if he knew exactly what she was about to say.

  “I’m with the government,” he said. He looked to the side and then back at her. “I mean, I am the government.” He laughed a little and Nessa frowned. She didn’t enjoy being toyed with. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “So?” She raised her eyebrow and widened her eyes. Lots of people had heard about her. He smiled at her, completely unfazed and unthreatened.

  “We are looking for someone of your skill,” he said.

  “We who? Who are you?” She asked. “What do you want from me?” He smiled again. He held out his hand. She looked at it.

  “I am, formally, His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Imrahil I,” he said simply. Nessa’s eyes shot up to his face in shock. He was studying her face. “Your parents were Necromancers, who worked with my father. Naturally, you would be one as well, given the hereditary nature of the power.”

  “You’re joking,” she said, not sure which part of what he had said that she was referring to. Her mouth dropped open. She searched for something to say and was shocked to find her mind utterly blank.

  “No,” he replied. “You may call me Ra. Most people do.” He paused, as if waiting for her to say something. She could think of nothing—things rarely shocked her. She had been rude to a crown prince. She was a Necromancer. That was illegal. Was being rude to a prince illegal as well? Rats. She reminded herself to close her mouth. Her teeth clicked sharply as they snapped together.